


You make me brave

by soulhead



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Jos Verstappen's A+ Parenting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23773903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulhead/pseuds/soulhead
Summary: Max indulges himself two seconds to let his own heart melts at the sight of Lando's adorable scrunched up face as he tries to get his eyes to settle to the light Max just switched on in the hall.Then, with apprehension filling his heart, he reluctantly picks up his father's call.
Relationships: Lando Norris/Max Verstappen
Comments: 7
Kudos: 130





	You make me brave

Telling Lando he had subscribed to Netflix was a mistake. On one hand, he's not complaining about the way his boyfriend has been clinging to him and using him as his own personal human-seized pillow for the whole evening. No, cuddling with Lando is definitely something he enjoys unreasonably and if he has to lure his boyfriend with netflix to do so, then so be it.

But on the other hand, there's only so many obscure british shows he can watch in one-go before his sanity starts to deteriorate.

It's on the third consecutive episode of the same TV serie that his determination to follow its plot starts to flicker rapidly. Sleep seems like an irresistible idea right now : everything around him screams _safe_ and _home_ as he sprawls out on their sofa next to the comforting weight of his boyfriend resting on his chest.

Who thought being loved up against his boyfriend for hours on end would become his favorite way to recuperate physically and mentally after a Grand-Prix ? Certainly not his younger self, who used to spend the day following each Grand Prix watching and re-watching his race, dissecting each corner, each overtake he did.

Now though, the post-race ritual he follows is a very different one.

Inevitably, he knows that once he'll lose his battle against sleep and close his eyes, the next time he'll open them, hours will have passed. His boyfriend will still be completely draped over him and his own muscle will have started to ache slightly after resting so long on their sofa. He also knows that he won't move a single inch, too afraid to wake Lando up. He'll just go back to sleep to the sound of his boyfriend's deep and steady breathing. And it'll be perfect.

With this perspective in mind, Max lets himself fall into a deep and restful slumber, a faint smile on his face.

Hence why he's particularly disappointed when he's startled awake to the sound of his phone's vibrations. The insistent noise ends up waking up a disgruntled Lando and he knows his initial plan for the evening is ruined.

Only one person in his entourage would call at 10PM, he realizes as his heart plummets. Only one person would insist to reach him after seeing their texts ignored for days on end.

«I have to take this.» he sighs as he tries to gently push himself away of Lando, whose death grip only tightens around his waist.

«Go back to sleep, I'll be there in no time.» he reassures, before Lando reluctantly lets him go.

«'m gonna be cold...» his partner mumbles petulantly.

Eying one of the heavy blanket resting on his other sofa, Max takes it on his way to the kitchen and throws it to Lando, who let an indignant whine as it lands directly on his face.

Max indulges himself two seconds to let his own heart melts at the sight of Lando's adorable scrunched up face as he tries to get his eyes to settle to the light Max just switched on in the hall.

Then, with apprehension filling his heart, he reluctantly picks up the call.

«Max ! Finally, you answer me.» his father greets him sternly, not even letting him time to speak «You haven't been responding to my texts.»

«Yeah, sorry, I was busy an-» he tries to fumble his way over an excuse before getting interrupted.

«Busy ?» his father repeats after him in an affronted tone. «Busy how ? The only thing that needs be on your mind right now should be to analyze how you let your first place go this weekend!»

Ah, it's going to be one of those calls where Max's reminded of all the things he _needs_ to be.

He needs to be more focused, to be more aggressive, more ruthless. More of everything. He knows it all by heart after years of hearing over and over those lengthy sermon.

God knows how he hates those exchanges with his father and how they manage to set his every nerve on edge for hours on end even long after their conversation.

«- You need to think better than just defending your position ! Today it cost you one tenth, but in Russia it'll be the podium ! What did I always told you when you were younger ?» his father rambles on and on «Max, what did I tell you ?» he repeats when Max doesn't answer him back.

«That the only defense maneuver-» Max says in a dull voice.

«- is to push !» his father finished in his stead.

As the rant on the other side of the phone goes on, Max's patience starts to deteriorate and he only listen half of the words his father says.

He finished on a podium today.

«The sixth of his season ! And he even secured his third place in the driver's ranking !» he wants to protest to his father petulantly.

Yet, he remains silent, knowing that for him it's not enough. His father hasn't even said anything about his achievement of the day, not even for a single second, instead he choses to directly go on a tangent about how unacceptable were every single mistake he did today.

Max wishes he could say he's surprised, but there's a good reason why he ignored his father's numerous text messages. He's starting to grow tired of the mountain of reproaches his father give him after each Grand Prix, no matter his results. When he was younger he might have endured it, but now he's less and less incline to spend his time feeling on edge, trying to guess what will be the new mistakes his father wants him to hate himself for.

Feeling restless, he starts wandering aimlessly around the kitchen in the futile hope his father's tirade will pass faster, before settling against the kitchen counter.

Almost covered by the sound of his father's neverending list of mistakes Max needs to correct, his ears still manage to catch the tiny sound of approaching steps.

Lando appears on the doorstep of the kitchen and walks toward him while rubbing his eyes. On instinct, Max extends his free arm in a silent invitation for his boyfriend, who puts his arms around his waist with no hesitation.

Lando's chest against his feels warm, grounding. A bundle of emotion ties itself in Max's throat when he realizes that he wishes nothing more than being able to cover the grating noise of his father's voice with the sound of Lando’s heartbeat against his own chest.

«- so tell me, when you have all of that to think about, how on earth were you busy ?» Jos finishes in an accusatory tone.

«Well, I...» he begins as he thinks about about how his father would probably get an aneurysm if he knew he indulged himself in something as futile as watching tv. And if it isn't sufficient to trigger it, adding that he was doing so while cuddling his _boyfriend_ , certainly would.

«Well ?» his father pushes.

A surge of courage raises into him and he speaks before realizing it : «I- Dad, I think I'm going to hang up now, okay ?» at that, Lando, who was resting his head on his left shoulder, pushes himself back and observes him with a surprised expression and a unmissable glint of delight shining in his eyes.

«Wh-»

«Goodnight, dad.» he interrupts before ending the call and tightening his embrace around Lando.

They stay unmoving against the kitchen's counter, breathing in the scent of each other for minutes in a heavy atmosphere. Max swallows difficulty, his hold around Lando must be almost painful with how strong it is, but his boyfriend remains blissfully silent and waits understandingly for him to speak first. With each second that passes, Max let the tension that previously filled his body leaves his muscles.

«Told you I would do it one day.» his voice finally echoes _throughout_ the kitchen.

«Why now ?»

 _Because you make me brave_ , he desperately wants to say, but he's sure Lando probably knows it already. Instead he settles for something much more safer :

«Nothing stands in the way of our cuddling sessions.» he whispers gently against the crook of Lando's neck. His boyfriend yawns discretely against him. «Time to go to bed for you I think, uh ?»

«Can we watch another episode of Broadchurch ?» Lando asks, his eyes widening in a hopeful expression.

«You fell asleep through it with me !» Max reminds him.

«Yeah but you said nothing interrupted our cuddling sessions and we didn't finish it...»

Max indulges him, of course he does, and follows his lead back in the living room, leaving his phone behind without a single afterthought.


End file.
